


Black Ice

by Commandant



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abuse, Bloodplay, Breathplay, I'm so sorry Wash, Knifeplay, M/M, Torture, but I needed more of this threesome in the most horrible way, everytime I update I have to add more sinful tags, gross awful smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commandant/pseuds/Commandant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smile he was greeted with he knew definitely as the one where Felix had done something wonderfully horrendous and couldn’t wait to tell Locus about it. That look pressed him to ask, “What have you done this time?”</p><p>Felix’s grin widened as he looked up at his partner, fresh faced with tousled hair. “Oh, I got you a present,” he replied, his lips curling as he drew out the last word in an almost seductive tone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beat Like a Drum

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I have looked at what the under-suit for the halo 4 armor looks like and I know it does not have a front zipper. In fact I have no idea how it comes off. So I am taking artistic liberties for the sake of the story, fight me.

Locus had by now learned to tell the difference between the various smiles that would pass across Felix’s face. There was the one when he was anticipating sex and the one when he’d just had sex, the one when he’d just killed a man and the one when he was planning how to kill someone. Regardless of the specificities, the was always something dangerous, calculated about them. Felix’s smiles are almost always about wanting things and obtaining them.

The one he was greeted with when he walked into the pirate’s hideout that afternoon, he knew definitely as the one where Felix had done something wonderfully horrendous and couldn’t wait to tell Locus about it. Frankly after he had undone two years of work so very recently, Locus had little tolerance for his dalliances. Still, that look on Felix’s face pressed him to ask, “What have you done this time?”

Felix’s grin widened as he looked up at his partner, fresh faced with tousled hair. Locus almost wondered after why the younger man was always so quick to remove his helmet these days, but the smile that had told him so much when he walked in was exactly why. “Oh, I got you a present,” he replied, his lips curling as he drew out the last word in an almost seductive tone. Whatever this ‘present’ was, it was probably not something your average layperson would consider as such. Not that it mattered to Locus. He was a soldier. Felix spoke the word like a predator who had just caught his prey, and it reminded Locus of that one chipped tooth in his mouth that tapered crookedly to a sharp point. He thinks Felix filed it down slightly after it had been chipped.

“Somehow I suspect this present of yours is going to cause us no small number of problems,” Locus spoke in his usual low, expressionless voice; but really, he was curious. He didn’t have to ask though, he knew Felix would reveal his grand scheme in due time. He did at least step inside the building properly, pulling the door shut behind him. 

Felix sauntered up to him with his usual boundless enthusiasm, “you worry too much; if anything this’ll solve some of our problems. So, y’know, you’re welcome.” He tugged on Locus’ arm, pulling him along into one of the storage rooms of the small facility. He saw Felix blinking to adjust to the darkness of the space and was grateful for his helmet with its built-in night vision capabilities. Even with that the room was dim, though perhaps that wasn’t really why it took him a few seconds to process what was on the floor in front of him.

For some reason, it was the dirty blond hair that struck Locus as odd first. He’d expected it to be darker, he thinks. Felix released his hold on Locus’s arm to crouch next to the man he’d left tied up on the storeroom floor, one of his ‘like a predator before prey’ grins on his face. Even in the bad lighting, Locus could identify the specific expression. He paced slowly around Felix’s present, noting that he’d left on some of the grey and gold armor haphazardly, but the binding on the arms and legs seemed solid enough. Felix was a loose, unpredictable person, but he did do excellent work when he was actually focused on what he was doing.

“C’mon Wash, wakey wakey eggs and bakey,” Felix chirped as he grabbed a fistful of the freelancer’s hair, yanking on it roughly. The action elicited a soft groan, but when Agent Washington still didn’t open his eyes Felix yanked again, before slapping the man across the face with his other hand. “Now you’re just being rude, really. It’s no fun if you’re out cold,” he continued, a practiced tone of fake disappointment seeping into his voice.

Agent Washington was younger than Locus had expected when he’d first obtained the man’s file, but the life he’d led had aged his face prematurely. Really it was nothing special, just a man who’d had his back broken by the military. Somehow, Locus felt disappointed by how ordinary he looked. 

But then Washington opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath like he’d just been saved from drowning. He glanced around blearily, quickly, before his gazed resolved into something sharper as he assessed his situation. Like the rest of his face, Washington’s eyes were profoundly tired. But they were also clear and icy blue, cold and focused as he glared first at Felix beside him before settling on Locus. Hatred, fury, threats of horrible retaliation. This man’s eyes told him more than any words could have, and he felt his breath catch in his throat for a fleeting moment at the ferocity displayed by this man so clearly at his mercy. “How disappointing, Agent Washington,” he mused as he paced quietly across the freelancer field of vison. He didn’t dare stray further, lest Wash tear his piercing gaze away from him. “How disappointing,” he repeated, “that you allowed Felix to outsmart you. I thought you were better than this. I thought you were a professional.”

Felix made a sour face at Locus’s sidelong verbal jab at his skills, but blessedly didn’t say anything. Even Felix knew Locus comment hadn’t really been about him. Instead he simply rocked back on his heels to sit down, hand still tangled in Washington’s hair. An idle tug elicited a soft wince from the man, but he didn’t reward Felix with a proper reaction to the pain.

“Fuck you,” Washington spat out, his voice slurred. Locus couldn’t tell if it was due to being drugged or a dislocated jaw. Felix’s M.O. was precisely that he didn’t really have one, unpredictability was his trademark. However he had gone about abducting the freelancer was a mystery Locus didn’t much care to solve at the moment. It was not important.

To Locus’ displeasure, Wash’s face was then turned away from him. He was robbed of those angry blue eyes focused on him, as Felix’s grip shifted in an instant from Wash’s hair to his chin and he pulled the man’s face into a painful angle facing him. “Oh, is that what you want, Wash? ‘Cause we can make that happen; right Locus?” he asked as he angled Washington’s face back towards Locus.

The fact that the man’s face remained unchanged told Locus that he hadn’t taken Felix’s words as any more than idle chatter, a pithy reply with no substance. Understandable, much of what Felix said could be dismissed entirely. Still, he answered simply, “of course.”

Unlike Felix, Locus’s words carried significant weight with them. He chose his words carefully for moments like this, where Washington’s eyes widened in horror at his simple statement. Locus could imagine what the man had been expecting; he was a veteran soldier, he had probably been steeling his nerves for inevitable torture the moment he regained consciousness. And certainly, Felix would have delighted in that sort of thing, fighting to get a reaction out of Washington. Locus could almost hear the delighted cackling laughter that would have tumbled out of his partner’s mouth when he finally got a scream out of him.

Though, that could certainly still happen. Locus was not opposed to the idea.

As Locus stood there musing silently to himself, Agent Washington found his resolve, his gaze hardening once more. He spoke roughly through gritted teeth, “anything you try to put in my mouth I’m biting off.” He looked at Locus as he spoke, but from the way the muscles in his neck strained, he had probably intended to look at Felix, who was still holding his head in place.

Felix stuck out his legs from where he sat, nudging Wash onto his stomach with his boot. Again, his hand on Wash’s chin redirected the man’s gaze towards him, and in turn his other arm reached out to pull him closer, almost onto his lap. It was reminiscent, Locus thought, of the way someone might hold up their dog. “Now, now, are you going to make me discipline you already?” Felix purred, leaning forward to lick the neck of his prize. 

Locus watched Washington’s whole body tense, and wasn’t surprised as he spat in Felix’s face when the smaller man leaned away. Felix swore loudly, removing his hands entirely to wipe it off. Free of his captor’s grasp, Washington attempted to squirm away from Felix. He wasn’t going to go much of anywhere with his arms tied behind his back and his feet bound, but Locus stepped forward anyway, firmly planting a foot on the man’s back.

“Pay attention to what you’re doing, Felix,” Locus chided, and Felix shot him a sharp look. He had expected that, too.

“No comments from the peanut gallery, asshole,” Felix replied, running his fingers through his hair as if to fix it, even though it looked the same as it always did. Locus wondered idly if Felix knew about this habit. “Now stop standing around watching like the creep you are. Get down here and help me,” he huffed. Felix shuffled over on his hands and knees, flipping Wash over when Locus removed his foot without being asked. When Felix gestured at him, Locus finally did drop to his knees, and found Agent Washington’s body shoved into his arms before he had a chance to protest.

All he had to do to cue any sort of explanation from Felix was to tilt his head to the side. “Just hold him for me a bit, alright?” Felix asked while smiling the smile that Locus knew meant that it was not so much a question as it was a command. He unhooked the armor still lingering on the agent’s chest, throwing it aside before doing as he was told. 

All that covered the man’s entire torso now was his Kevlar body suit. Locus pressed his fingers into the hollow space above the man’s collarbone until he could feel Agent Washington’s heartbeat thundering against his touch. “Are you nervous, Agent Washington?” Locus spoke softly, though still his tone never wavered.

He felt Wash tensing in his grasp before he even spoke. “Monster,” was all he growled out, and this time Locus didn’t bother to correct him. In any case, both of their attentions were diverted to Felix at that moment; he had knelt down to remove the rest of the armor from Washington’s legs before sliding onto his lap. The blond man’s immediate response was to buck his hips up and sideways, attempting to throw Felix off. All Felix did was laugh as his hands gripped the man’s sides before he could be flung, grinding his own hips into Wash’s in turn. One upside of Locus’s current position was that he had an up close view of the grimace that passed across the former agent’s face at the action.

“Oh,” Felix purred as he ground down again, “it’s going to be so much fun to break you in.” Locus could tell from the underlying rumble to his voice that Felix was already getting aroused. He pulled out his combat knife, a weapon he had always been inordinately fond of. With his other hand he reached up to pull at the hem of the bodysuit at Wash’s neck. “I sharpened my knife up real nice just for you,” he quipped with a feral grin before digging in, laying a long cut down the middle of the fabric, parallel to the zipper he had pointedly ignored. It wasn’t smooth going; the fabric was after all, military grade, he got stuck and more than once broke the skin underneath. On top of that, Wash was struggling the entire time, even with Locus holding him around the chest and Felix on his lap. Actually, knowing Felix, the bloodletting was entirely on purpose. It’d be the reason why he bypassed the zipper entirely, too. Finally, he leaned back as his knife neared the man’s crotch. “You better quit that squirming, wouldn’t want to nick anything important,” Felix spoke aloud as he paused. His warning went entirely unheeded, but Felix’s deft touch with his knife avoided any serious injury. 

Locus took a moment to tug apart the torn top half of the suit. He could feel the tension in every part of Washington’s body he touched. He felt the disgust radiating from his gaze at Locus’s expressionless helmet. It was wonderful, and he took a moment to admire Washington’s physique for what it was. Taught and powerful, like a soldier should be. The moment was ruined when Felix ran his hands over the exposed abs. “Nice, nice,” he murmured, almost more to himself than anything else.

When Felix’s hands started to travel further south at a leisurely pace was when a sense of urgency finally struck into Washington, and he began to struggle with such renewed vigor that Locus almost lost his grip, and Felix nearly toppled over sideways. “Get off me, get the fuck off me!” he yelled so loud that his voice cracked, but the venom in his words was potent and sent shivers down Locus’s spine. The sound he made when Locus clamped his hands down on him with renewed force was best called a snarl, and he spit again at Felix’s face when the smaller man leaned in closer to regain his balance. But this time Felix was ready, and he ducked.

Felix’s hand darted forward like a bullet to grab at Wash’s face, grip far too tight. Locus let himself slide into a seated position and his legs snaked around Washington’s sides to help hold him in place. “Wash, Wash, Wash,” Felix shook his head and tutted at the freshly immobilized man, “you’re really not putting that pretty mouth of yours to good use.” The moment he finished speaking, he leaned in again to press his lips to that ‘pretty mouth.’ Locus found the muffled angry noises the kiss elicited from Washington far more satisfying that the sight of the act itself. It was cut short however, as Felix pulled back sharply with a loud yelp of pain.

“He bit my tongue!” Felix cried out indignantly, sticking it out of his mouth as he pouted. Locus’s lips quirked at the sight of scarlet on the muscle, it had been a hard bite, to be sure. Current situations notwithstanding, he could always enjoy the sight of Felix being put in his place.

A short, low rumbling noise escaped Locus’s throat, a sound that only Felix would be able to identify as a laugh. “He did warn you, Felix,” was Locus’s only reply. Washington spat blood out of his mouth as he looked up at Felix defiantly. It was fine to let him have this momentary victory, it would not last long. 

Felix let out a loud huff before shifting his position again, his fingers traveling once again down Washington’s chest, and Locus felt the man’s body strain against his grip, wanting to thrash about, to throw Felix off. Not this time. Felix’s hands continued all the way down to their destination, freeing Wash’s cock from his torn bodysuit. 

When Felix’s hands finally touched him, Agent Washington shook so violently Locus thought for a moment Felix really would fall off this time. When he didn’t, Felix shot a wide toothy grin up at the man, so wide his chipped tooth, a lateral incisor, was clearly visible. 

“Get your disgusting hands off of me!” Wash growled out again loudly, “Felix you piece of shit, don’t you fucking touch—”

Wash’s tirade was cut short as Locus jammed his fingers into the man’s mouth, wedging them in at an angle in the corner of his mouth, against the backs of his teeth and his jaw. The freelancer could bite down if he wanted, but not with enough force to tear through Kevlar. A strained gagging noise came out of his throat, but with Locus’s thumb pressing up firmly on the underside of his chin, Washington couldn’t turn his head away. “That’s enough squawking for now,” Locus spoke, leaning his head forward so that his words would echo right in Washington’s ear. He was pleased to feel Wash violently twitch away from the sound.

Locus didn’t have to look up to be able to tell the exact moment Felix started to move his hand. The way Wash’s entire body seized up, a strangled noise erupting out of his throat told him just as well as the sight would have. Even though he couldn’t close his mouth, the freelancer was still trying his damnedest to yell his objections at Felix. It was admirable really, his dedication to communicating to the shorter man what utter garbage he was. Still, Locus whispered a shhing sound, again right by his ear. It didn’t work, if anything he just yelled louder, given a second reason to cringe and fight. Pity none of the words he was spewing were anywhere near intelligible. With Locus’s finger’s holding his mouth open they were reduced to vague, almost animalistic noises. Locus let his other hand stray a bit down the man’s bare chest, only to have it swatted away by Felix.

“It’s not your turn yet,” was the proffered reason for the action when Locus looked down at Felix. Somehow, when Locus hadn’t been paying attention, Felix had stripped off all his armor and peeled the under-suit off his top half, completely unzipped and hanging around his waist. Perhaps he hadn’t even been wearing the armor before. Locus couldn’t really remember at the moment. Felix’s skin was a warm sunny brown against the freelancer’s far paler complexion, and his hand traveled up and down the man’s shaft like a practiced professional. As Locus looked on, he kept catching glimpses of the flaming skulls printed on the knuckles of his two middle fingers, grinning ghoulishly at him.

Felix’s tattoos really were the definition of unnecessary. The stars leading to his groin were visible now too, along with the overdone tribal tattoo sprawling over his right shoulder, covering up the UNSC emblem he’d had there years ago. At least from this angle, Locus didn’t have to stare at the emerald eyed fox sprawled across his back. Felix spared a glance up at Wash’s face, smirking at the way the man’s eyes squeezed shut when his thumb brushed across the head of his cock. “Getting pretty hard down here, could it be that dear Agent Washington likes being humiliated?” Felix teased, letting out a barking laugh at his own joke. “No really, I wanna know, how’re you feeling right now? Furious? Ashamed? Aroused? All of the above? I bet. You’ll tire yourself out waaaay before we’re done at that rate. Though maybe then you won’t struggle so much. But really, that’s what makes it fun, right Locus?”

“You’re talking too much,” Locus replied, choosing to focus his attention instead on the freelancer trapped in his grip. As deep as his hatred may run, Washington’s breathing was already labored. Felix’s hands were skilled at many things, and pleasing a man was one of them. Even with his gloves on, Locus could feel hot breath pushed past his fingers by involuntary gasps and gulps. He could feel the warmth of bare skin underneath his other hand, and again he adjusted his grip until he could press his fingers in to feel the man’s elevated heartbeat at the base of his throat. He really should thank Felix for this ‘present’ of his later. To hell with the consequences that this kidnapping would no doubt incur. Actually, scratch that. To hell with Felix and his ridiculous though enjoyable escapades.

He had been so focused on Washington that he didn’t even notice Felix had stood up until more of Wash’s wild thrashing almost knocked him over. When he looked up, Felix was just finishing stepping out of his suit, and stood stark naked and erect in the dim light of the storeroom. Locus felt this was entirely unnecessary until Felix crouched over where he’d just been sitting, easing onto the slick cock beneath him. The noises he made were all but entirely drowned out by more wordless yelling from Washington, but at that moment all Locus could think was how he almost regretted missing watching Felix prep himself, he’d always make such ridiculous concentrated faces when he did it.

Though, the faces he was making now were just about as good. Washington’s thrashing died quickly when he realized that Felix was enjoying being jostled about with a cock up his ass. It didn’t take Felix but a minute until he’d taken it all in, perched neatly on Wash’s lap looking pleased with himself. “Think he might be bigger than you are, Locus,” Felix finally spoke, his voice slightly hoarse from breathlessness. 

Locus fixed Felix with an unimpressed look he hoped the small man could feel even though his helmet, “I do not waste my time with petty things like jealousy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Felix rolled his eyes before rolling his hips as a soft noise escaped his throat. “Fuck,” he mumbled as red rose in his cheeks, repeating the action and punctuating it with a full moan. “Locus,” he said as he looked up, “fingers out. I wanna hear everything.” He grinned in a dangerous manner, and Locus knew he’d be in for some trouble if he ignored the order. So again, he did as he was told. Felix was allowed to give orders in situations like these.

Locus withdrew the fingers in a sharp movement with good reason, as Wash bit down the moment he was able. The next moment he opened his mouth again to start yelling. It was at that same moment that Felix began to move. “Both of you are—” a hitch in his breath as Felix dropped his hips back down, “absolutely disgusting, and I—” a strangled noise Locus suspected should have been a moan, “going to fucking—”Agent Washington began to lose his train of thought, “s-straight to hell!” He held back another noise by biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Locus felt warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach and buried his hand in that messy blond hair, which, he noted upon closer inspection was flecked with grey. His body was tensed like a bow string under Locus’s grasp, and the look in his eyes deadly sharp and penetrating when Locus pulled his head back to look at his face properly. It was beautifully jarring next to flushed cheeks and a mouth that couldn’t stay closed as Felix rode his cock like he owed it money. 

Like most everything else about him, Felix’s performance at the moment was over the top, moaning loudly and running his hands all over his own body. No doubt he was hot, even from where he sat Locus could see the sweat beading at his temples. Locus imagined Felix’s own heartbeat, as rapid as the pulse his fingers pressed against Washington’s neck. Despite his dramatics, it was clear to Locus that Felix was observing Wash closely all the while. His smile predatory, proud at subduing his prey so wholly, no doubt. At this point, the freelancer could barely get out more than a disparaging word or two at a time, though they seemed to increase in vehemence when his own hips began to betray him with small bucking movements.

Felix came first, lurching forward as he made a mess of both bared chests. Locus caught his face with one hand. “Are you going to finish what you started, Felix?” Locus asked in a challenging tone. 

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” Felix bit back as he ground his hips back. It was only a minute more until Washington’s back arched as a loud noise was strangled in his throat. Locus felt the man’s pulse spike through his fingers as the entire body in his grasp seized rigidly. The look on Felix’s face as he leaned over him could only be described as a pout. “You dick, if you’re going to come in my ass, you should at least give me the noise I wanted,” he complained louder than necessary to the exhaustedly angry face beneath him. 

The look that Washington displayed at that moment said that he’d like nothing more than to tear Felix’s throat out. But really, that was why Felix was grinning so widely. Though the pause gave the blond man time enough to regain his breath and speak simply, “die.”

Felix laughed in response as he shifted off of Wash’s lap, letting the slowly softening cock slip out of him. “That was a lot too. When’s the last time you got laid? Before today, I mean. Is that why you’re always so uptight? Not that a good fucking does any good for some people’s horrible mental issues,” Felix chattered away happily as if he wasn’t sitting naked on a bare cement floor, ass dripping cum. Truly, he had no shame to speak of.

“Stop talking. Are you done?” Locus cut in curtly. He wasn’t in the mood for Felix’s rambling at the moment, even disregarding the obvious jab at his expense. He supposed that it was payback for earlier

The initial response he got was just Felix stretching his arms above his head. “Well I suppose you’ve earned a turn,” he clapped his hands together and held out his arms, “give him here.” 

Locus was somewhat loath to give up his hold on Washington’s neck, that heartbeat beneath his fingers still slowly descending to a resting rate. But he had another problem he needed taken care of as well. He hefted the man up and towards Felix before Wash had a chance to react with anything other than an indignant yelp.

“Hey there hot—” Felix’s attempt at sarcastic flirting was cut short as he yelped, Locus assumed because the freelancer had spit in his face again as Felix held him up by the shoulders. 

He hadn’t been paying attention; instead he was focused on pulling Wash’s legs out from underneath him. Locus positioned him so that he was on his knees, facing away from him. It was far from intimate, but intimacy was not the goal here. Unlike Felix, Locus removed the bare minimum amount of his armor, unzipping his under-suit without as much as a single word.

Felix whistled low. “Already hard, you like watching me get fucked that much, Locus?” he teased. Locus didn’t correct him because the fact that Felix had called Agent Washington a present for him in the first place proved he knew what the actual situation was. Felix turned his gaze back to Wash in front of him, “Betcha he’s gonna go in dry too. Better brace yourself, Wash.” The tone in his voice was almost gleeful. Before Locus could grab hold of the freelancer’s hips he twisted hard, almost pulling free of Felix’s grasp. But Locus didn’t work with Felix for nothing, he was as quick as he was manic, and instead of wrenching Felix’s hands off of him, Wash ended up forcefully slid off to the side, his top half hitting the ground heavily. Felix immediately shifted his weight to keep Wash there with his face turned sideways, pressed hard against the cold stone of the floor. And he leaned over Locus thought he saw a trickle of blood escape the man’s lightly freckled nose, red blooming across the grey cement.

“Now this isn’t gonna be comfortable for you at all,” Felix said as he shook his head. “Now you’re gonna have a sore ass _and_ a sore neck and back. Poor Wash,” he clucked, leaning his weight on the top of the freelancer’s back, his hands idly carding through the man’s hair.

Locus gave his full erection a few slow strokes to coat it in the pre-cum that had already leaked out. But he wasn’t one to draw things out like Felix. He knelt behind Washington, one hand taking a firm grasp on the man’s hips to quell the movement his proximity had stirred up. With the other, he tugged at the rip in the Kevlar that Felix had made with his knife. He tore at it, continuing it further until his target had been exposed. Once it had, his hand moved to grip the other side of Washington’s hips, much needed, as the man was still thrashing about wildly to break away from his grasp. It was useless. Locus wasn’t giving up his prize so easily. He could hear the freelancer screaming curses and condemnations at him in a hoarse voice, but the words themselves dimmed at the back of his consciousness. He would only remember the immeasurable satisfaction he felt the moment he thrust deep into the man, making all those words cut out in favor of a much louder, unrestrained wordless shout of pain. He took care to bask in the noise, knowing he would not be able to elicit such a noise again; Washington would make sure to hold it back, whether for his own pride or robbing Locus of the satisfaction.

The noise that rumbled in Felix’s throat was much like that of a satisfied wild cat. He stroked Wash’s hair, cooing at him, thumb brushing at the sweat on his face, “See, I told you he was gonna do that. You didn’t listen. Would’ve hurt less if you’d braced for it.” Felix glanced up at Locus with a smirk before looking back down at the pained face beneath him. “Well, a little bit less, anyway,” he amended.

“Is it necessary for you to talk?” Locus asked, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting in again fully. The motion pulled a groan out from between Wash’s clenched teeth, and Locus smirked beneath his helmet, repeating the motion. It wasn’t a noise of pleasure, he knew. As he continued to move, he knew what the slick warm liquid lubricating his movement was without even looking. He’d recognize that sharp metallic smell anywhere.

Felix pouted up at him, though Locus barely noticed as his glance was of course focused on what he could see of Washington’s face. As if he felt he was being watched, Wash took a sidelong glance up at Locus, his eyes still simmering darkly. Good, Locus thought. The freelancer’s face was at its most beautiful in this moment, teeming with unadulterated hatred and still leaking blood. The strain on his body from Locus’s even and heavy thrusting was illustrated there as well, in the firm set of his brow and the way his breath shuddered out of him unevenly. 

“Does it hurt?” Felix asked Wash in a soft voice. He stretched his arms out across the man’s sharply angled back, fingers skating idly across skin like ice as they dug under the fabric of the bodysuit and peeled it away as they moved. When he was given no response, his fingers dug in at the base of Wash’s shoulder blades, just above where his arms were bound. Felix dragged angry red welts back up to his shoulders, making his back arch and his breath catch painfully in his throat. “How about that, does that hurt?” he asked, venom seeping into his voice.

Wash only gave him two firm words, “Fuck. Off.” His voice, increasingly hoarse every time he yelled, still stayed firm. Locus was now more certain than ever, that breaking the spirit of this former freelancer agent was going to be a far more involved affair than anticipated. He wondered if maybe, the man had been fucked like this before. Or perhaps it was just a testament to his aggressively stubborn personality. It was fine, he’d take up the challenge.

Locus leaned forward to take in the warmth of Agent Washington’s body, and took a moment to admire the work Felix had done binding his hands. It was neat and tight, though not so much that it would have cut the circulation. Where Felix had gotten practice at this sort of thing, Locus didn’t care to know. He felt sweat dripping down his face as he quickened the pace and felt Felix smirking up at him as he idly stroked Wash’s head and shoulders as if he were a well-behaved dog. Locus ignored him. Focused on those blue eyes glaring up at him in disgust. No, not him, but at the smooth helmet covering his face. That was all Wash was able to see, all he knew of Locus. Those eyes were all that mattered. 

He came quietly, as he always did. Agent Washington cringed and shuddered in his grasp as Locus emptied himself inside him. When his climax finished, Locus pulled away without a word. He didn’t care to see to it that the other man finished as well. It was irrelevant and unnecessary. After collecting his single piece of discarded armor, he zipped up his suit before replacing the codpiece. Only then did he look back down at the two men still on the floor, neither of which had moved. Semen dripped from the place he had been moments before and he felt his lips twinge into a smile for a single moment behind the facemask of his helmet. Locus turned his gaze to Felix, who looked more satisfied than he had any right to be. “Clean this up,” he ordered, jerking his head between the dirtied agent and Felix himself.

Felix nodded with a grin, but first hopped to his feet, grabbing hold of Locus’s arm before the taller man had a chance to turn away. Locus did not move, even when his small hands reached up to tug him down and undo the locks that kept his helmet in place. He’d had to make Locus lean over to even be able to reach his target. Felix lifted the Locus helmet up just enough to plant a kiss on dark lips before dropping it back into place. “You like my present?” he asked, eyes glittering darkly. Locus knew from the smile on Felix’s face that he already knew the answer.


	2. And One For Washington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be more than a one-shot but here we are. I have no real plans specifically as to where this is going so if there's a specific thing you'd like to see feel free to request it?? Like a certain kink or whatever. There will definitely be more smut in subsequent chapters. Not this one though, and I apologize.

The resolute sound of the door closing behind Locus reminded Wash of his prison cell. When he thought about it, really his current situation wasn’t terribly different from actually being in jail. This dim empty storage room was about the same size as the cold grey one he’d been shoved into, after breaking into that project freelancer facility, after setting off the EMP that killed the Alpha. He felt a frown across his face, he hated drifting back there, back to that time when Maine was alive. Those thoughts felt like bitter blood and burning in his mouth, detached and forced into place as they were, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit because he wasn’t that person anymore.

Still, he thinks maybe he’d rather stay sunk in those uncomfortable thoughts than have to look at the fox-like face that belonged to the hands that pulled him back out of his own head. They were rough, covered in textured Kevlar again. As his eyes re-engaged with the present he saw that Felix had slipped back into his under-suit, though he’d yet to zip it back up. He could still see the black stars on his abdomen and felt in that moment a strong desire to just rip them off. Somehow. Anything was possible as long as you were determined enough. He felt a low growl rise in his throat as those wicked hands pulled him up off the floor, one cupping his chin.

“That’s a scary face you’re making, Wash. Shame you can’t hurt me just by thinking it real hard,” Felix quipped, grinning crookedly. Wash half wished Felix had kept his helmet on instead of Locus. He looked young, with soft skin and light freckles. It was a face that reminded Wash of a man, a boy really, that he had been in basic with. Wash remembered him as kind and brave, pushing everyone else forward when they didn’t think they could make it. Years later, he could still remember his head snapping to the side as if pulled by some supernatural force just in time to see a Sangheili elite run the man through with an energy sword.

Felix didn’t deserve to have that kind of face. But somehow, that just made it all the more appropriate. He offered Wash a closed-eyed smile before shoving him over onto his back with as little finesse as he could muster.

Wash winced slightly as the raw lines Felix’s nails had drawn across the back of his shoulders met the cool concrete. The pain quickly dissolved into the rest of the aches spreading all over his body. His arms had been bent behind his back for far too long and every single one of his joints ached to the point of numbness, sharp stabbing pains cutting through every time he was moved. His ass was indescribably sore, and on top of that he had a headache from being shoved face first onto the floor, with blood fleeing from his possibly broken nose to show for it. Really, half of him wanted to just close his eyes and try to pass out. But somehow he felt like that would be some sort of twisted victory for the smaller mercenary and he refused to allow him that.

His entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, a damp feeling that was only magnified by the stale air in the room. Felix’s hand wiping clean his brow and bloodied cheek was gentle, but the sheer absurdity of it made Wash cringe all the harder. When he jerked away from the touch, Felix’s response was to laugh. That noise, Wash thought, was just as bad as the stinging sensation Felix’s fingers had left in his back.

Felix climbed to his feet, casually lifting his foot and planting it on Wash’s hips, the tip of his boot nudging at Wash’s still semi-erect cock. “Locus told me to clean you up but look at this,” he clucked, shaking his head, “he didn’t even finish you off.”

“Don’t touch me,” Wash spat out in reply, jerking his hips sideway with all the energy he could muster. Felix lost his balance with a yelp, falling backwards. Wash had to curse the fact that Felix’s reflexes were quick enough to land him on his ass rather than cracking his head open on the hard floor.

“Y’know, my ass is still sore from your dick,” Felix half mumbled with a feigned sour expression on his face as he climbed to his feet.

Wash let his mouth set into a stony frown, only giving the curt response of “shut up.” It wasn’t worth getting angry at the misplaced blame. He was sure that Felix knew he was fully responsible for the state of his own ass, the disgusting smirk on his face proved it.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Felix rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before glancing up at the ceiling. “I mean, I’d hate to leave you with blue balls but if you insist…”

Felix had to jump out of the way as Wash turned his head to spit at him once more. It was the only real retaliation he had at this point aside from his own words. “I’d rather take a bath in acid than have your hands on me again, you’re disgusting.” It was bad enough he was even close to being hard from what Locus had done. The feeling of violation still burned red hot in his chest from Felix getting him off, Locus fucking him dry with his face pressed against the floor had additionally been painful and humiliating.

“Fine, fine,” Felix replied holding up his hands placatingly before pulling out his knife, “I think I have a solution we can both agree on then.” Wash caught a glimmer of white teeth as Felix deposited himself on his lap before Wash could even process the statement. Probably, he should be alarmed by where things were clearly going, he’d already figured out that the sort of smile currently on Felix’s face was like a storm warning. Never a good sign. Still, he decided he’d rather this than the previous alternative.  

That said, Wash certainly wasn’t happy about this option either. “Get off me,” he replied in a level voice, his eyes trained on Felix with deadly focus.

The smile on Felix’s face curled at the corners. “Nah,” was his answer, spoken casually as if what he was denying wasn’t a blatant violation of another human being’s basic rights. Wash strained against the rope binding his arms behind his back, fierce as his desire was to wrap his hands around Felix’s neck. “So,” Felix continued, “when you woke up here I bet you were expecting some more… conventional torture, right?”

Wash said nothing even as the thought _no shit_ rose in his mind. Of course he’d expected torture. He could tolerate pain, he’d been trained for it, subjected to it over and over again. He’d been taught that some enemies would resort to extreme lengths to break him. What he’d gotten hadn’t been what he had anticipated but in the end he wasn’t surprised. Disgusted, sure. But knowing who he was dealing with, not surprised. Wash felt his muscles tense up again as he noticed the knife in Felix’s hand.

Felix glanced at the weapon with a tacit reverence before turning a lazy pleased expression on Wash. “It’d be poor form if we failed to meet your expectations, wouldn’t it?”

For whatever reason, at that moment Wash became acutely aware of the waning trickle of blood still leaving his nose and running down the side of his face. He had no reason to respond to what Felix was saying, so he didn’t bother. Anything he said could only serve to make the situation worse for himself, since the mercenary was going to do whatever he wanted regardless of any protests. His energy was better spent steeling himself for the moment that knife met his skin, as he knew it was destined to do.

Apparently displeased with the lack of rebuke, Felix frowned, finger tracing along the flat of the knife’s blade. “What, no reaction? You’ll yell and fight when we try to fuck you, but when it comes to torture, suddenly you’re ready to just lie there and take it?” Felix paused for a moment and when Wash still said nothing, he laughed, “wow, you _are_ tough!” An honest grin peeled across Felix’s face as he laughed again before settling into a more insidious look, “too bad I can’t say the same for most of the rest of your freelancer buddies.”

_He somehow heard ineffable sadness in Delta’s monotone voice, felt himself pull the trigger on South, his nerves dead and numb, saw Maine—no, the Meta—being pulled off the side of a cliff—_

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about them,” Wash snarled, words like venom on his tongue. Felix didn’t have the fucking right, he didn’t _know_ anything about what the agents of Project Freelancer had gone through. They’d all made mistakes, some more so than others, but like hell was Wash going to let someone who hadn’t even been there pass judgement on them in front of him.

The look on Felix’s face then made him almost regret reacting so fiercely. “Oh, hit a nerve there, how rude of me. I should apologize by honoring them properly…” Felix glanced up at the ceiling, flipping his knife in his hand idly. Mentally and physically exhausted as he was, Wash still felt a skeptical expression on his face at Felix’s bizarre comment. When Felix spoke again he felt a chill shudder down his spine at the words, “lets see… how did those files go…”

He felt like an idiot. Felix’s employer was Malcolm Hargrove. Of course he and Locus would have access to Project Freelancer’s files. All of them, the ones that had been seized by the Chairman when Wash and the rest of their ragtag team had put an end to the project once and for all, were probably readily available to the mercenaries if they felt it necessary.

A knife blade cleaved through his thoughts as in turn Felix stabbed it down and dragged a shallow cut down Wash’s chest. “One for Connecticut, the first one who dared to defect and paid for it dearly,” Felix recited in a low, almost sing-song voice.

Wash failed to properly stifle a yelp at that first cut, he hadn’t been paying attention and it caught him off guard. But he’d be ready now. He could ignore the new stinging pain easily, he just had to also ignore the acrid words pouring out of Felix’s mouth.

Felix’s knife dug in again, slicing another red line next to the first. “One for New York, killed by his former teammate, if only he’d seen it coming,” he continued as he shook his head. Wash tried to ignore the hundreds of needles stinging his chest. He could imagine that even as he kept his silence, his face was betraying him.

Biting his lower lip in fleeting concentration, Felix frowned momentarily before speaking,  “Who was next? Oh right,” his smile returned as his knife struck another crimson tally mark on Wash’s chest, “one for North Dakota, left to die at the hands of some monster by his own dear sister. Oh, but that monster was a former freelancer too, wasn’t he?” He laughed lightly as Wash’s muscles strained against the blade, “man, you freelancers are pretty backstabby, no wonder the program fell apart. You even gave those reds and blues a taste, hm?” Felix’s expression narrowed, sly and knowing.

Wash could still hear the shrill tone that had suddenly rose in Simmons’ voice the moment he’d pulled the trigger on Donut. His eyes screwed shut as he shivered. No. That wasn’t who he was anymore. _Get it together, Wash_. He let out a long shuddering breath before daring to open his eyes, just in time to see Felix’s knife dig into his chest again.

“One for Wyoming; bested by those same sim troopers, how disappointing. And one for Texas, and her short-lived victory,” Felix continued, ending with a patronizingly fake sympathetic tone.

Wash fought against the wince that shook his body at the fifth cut, for Tex, across the first four like tally marks. It was hard to even make out the individual lines at this point, in any case, the blood spreading across his chest from each mark was making them all run together. Really, Wash hadn’t know much of Tex, but he knew enough to be offended at Felix mocking her terrible luck. More than that though, he was steeling himself for the next one, already imagining how Felix was going to milk it.

“Next, one for South Dakota,” Felix purred as he laid the sixth cut in Wash’s skin at a languid pace. “Killed by… well, I don’t have to tell you,” he said as if he found it all terribly funny, “how did it feel, Wash? Pulling that trigger on a former teammate, I mean. Or did you rationalize it, tell yourself she had it coming? Dashing hero that you are, I’m sure you must do all sorts of mental gymnastics now.”

Rough rope dug into Wash’s wrists, fingers twitching. Even if Felix had access to the project’s files, he couldn’t reach and grasp how Wash felt, after all that he had been though, as a freelancer, as a recovery agent, as whatever it was that he was now. He just had to ignore it, push all his feelings down and swallow his pride. _Don’t react, that’s what he wants._

“Another for Texas, killed and absorbed by the Meta. An agent that was also an AI, who would’ve thought?” Felix drawled out before pausing, a delighted glint in his eyes.

And then he plunged the knife in deeper than any of the cuts he’d made before. Wash’s choked on his own breath, his back jerking, arching painfully as he failed to keep a strangled noise in his throat as the knife dragged slowly through flesh. Felix laughed at the violent reaction like it was the best thing he’d ever seen, “and one for Maine! Pulled off a cliff by a fucking truck, you saw him go, didn’t you? Files said the two of you were quite the pair. Were you sad to see him go?”

_Ignore him Ignore him Ignore him_

“Oh no, let me guess. ‘That monster wasn’t Maine anymore.’ It doesn’t count if you try to rationalize it like that, right?”

He wanted to scream, to punch Felix’s teeth out and break his nose, to make him _stop talking_ ; about Maine, about the freelancers, about everything. Because sure, he was right, Maine had been his friend. He’d spent the first week on the Mother of Invention in near constant fear of being punched, but then it was when Maine gave him a pat on the shoulder after a successful training mission that he really felt like he had a place on that ship. Maine had been different, but really, so had he. Something like that, he was sure Felix would never understand. The way things had ended wasn’t something he wanted to think about ever again.

“I feel like I’m forgetting one… there should be nine, with counting Texas twice, right?” Felix mused before shrugging and adding another tally mark that felt like an afterthought after the cut he’d given him for Maine. “So one for whoever the fuck I’m forgetting, I guess!” he paused again before adding a second diagonal line to match the first. “One more for your buddy Maine, because hey, why not?” Felix said with a laugh again, “make it nice and symmetrical.”

If nothing else, Wash was grateful for the blood loss. It was making his head foggy, with any luck he’d pass out soon and he wouldn’t have to look at the grossly fond look on Felix’s  face. There was probably something to be said for Felix, the man who had betrayed an entire army, mocking him for his own torn alliances. But he didn’t have the energy to do so, and he doubted Felix would have cared. After all, he’d clearly demonstrated he had no shame to speak of.

“Do you ever wonder, Wash, if you could have saved him?” Felix chirped as he put his knife away before running a hand gently over Wash’s chest. Even the light touch felt like hot iron burning his skin. “You weren’t even there when he got all fucked up. Hit by a truck and shot what, eleven times in the throat? Maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking useless, you could have helped him, huh? Truck probably knocked something in his head loose and that’s why he went postal. You were his so called friend and you let all of that happen? I’d say it’s a shock those reds and blues trust you, but then again, they _are_ idiots.”

Wash barely retained any of the words Felix said, though the burning anger they left in his stomach stayed. His brain managed to organize itself long enough to growl out a single reply, “they still managed to outsmart _you_.” He wanted to believe he was delivering the line with a death glare on his face, but he didn’t feel like he was fully in control of all his muscles at the moment. His arms, back, chest, face, all sore in that dull, throbbing, enduring way.

He just wanted everything to stop. Just for five minutes. He needed to rest for five minutes. Just five minutes. Why was that too much to ask for?

Wash spat on instinct when Felix’s face neared his, and made what was probably an embarrassing yelping noise when he felt himself being lifted off the ground. But at that point the edges of his vision were fizzling out into blackness, and he wasn’t really in a mood to fight against it. He vaguely registered a confused sound in an unfamiliar voice as the door opened and light almost beat down the dark clouding his sight. “Perfect timing” was all he remembered Felix saying before he passed out.


	3. Between a Rock and

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's discussed what we are to do with Agent Washington. Felix causes problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took forever... and ended up not having any smut in it. I SWEAR TO GOD I NEVER INTENDED FOR IT TO DEVELOP THIS MUCH SUBSTANCE. But I have Plans now. Stay tuned, I guess.

“I distinctly recall,” Locus said, the biting glare more palpable through his helmet than the low tone in his voice, “telling you to clean up the mess. Not make another one.”

Felix groaned. He couldn’t believe Locus’s constant lecturing tone. “Everything is clean now, what the hell are you complaining about?” He flicked a mote of dust off the pitch-black visor of his helmet before tugging it back onto his head, armor locks quietly clicking it into place.

“He could have bled out,” Locus replied flatly, a rumble of irritation tugging at the corners of his tone. Felix barely even registered it at this point. It was something he heard so often, he didn’t even bother trying to defuse it half the time these days. Locus would get over any annoyance eventually on his own anyway. It was just the way the man’s mind worked, always fighting to get back to the calm, sedate equilibrium of the “true soldier” aesthetic he strived so very hard towards. Of course, Felix wouldn’t remind him that he’s much further from it than he thinks. That’s a fatal verbal bullet to save for a special occasion. A special, terrible, inevitable occasion.

After a pause wherein he glanced over at the unconscious form of Agent Washington, Felix laughed. “Oh god forbid. Then who would you write about in your diary?”

“He’s more useful to us alive than dead, Felix,” Locus growled, as if Felix didn’t already know that. Really, he’s cleverer than Locus sometimes gives him credit for. Certainly he’s not the one running around with a modified voice filter to make himself sound more menacing. He’d call Locus Darth Vader in jest if the reference wouldn’t have been wasted on the guy.

He inhaled loudly before repeating his own thoughts out loud, “Oh my god, I know. Pull the stick out of your ass. I wasn’t going to let him bleed out, I know what I’m doing.” He let a little edge slip into his voice.Locus should fucking know better by now than to question him when it comes to knives.

Locus remained quiet for a long moment. He was inscrutable to most behind that helmet, but from the slight upturn of his head Felix knew that Locus was still irritated but struggling to think of a new justification that Felix wouldn’t be able to refute. Felix wasn’t sure why he bothered, almost all of their arguments Locus eventually lost. All the important ones. Words were what Felix was good at, after all. “There isn’t time for this, we’re already late,” Locus finally spoke, dismissively.

Again, Felix let out a wordless noise of protest, sweeping his hands outwards in an exasperated gesture. “Late for what? I wasn’t aware we were on a fucking schedule.” Of course, it was probably something Locus had mentioned that morning when he droned on about his general itinerary of things that needed to be done. Felix only ever listened if he heard his name because after all, keeping everything organized was Locus’s job, not his.

“Felix, this is important,” Locus pressed on, firmly, “We need to be on top of everything if we’re going to recover from the situation you put us in.”

That was a mistake. Felix’s fists tightened to the point where his nails would have drawn blood if it not for the gloves of his bodysuit. Tucker outsmarting him had already been enough to make his blood boil, Locus throwing it back in his face was on another level entirely. The step back Locus took when Felix glared at him was almost enough to make him feel better. Almost. At least the giant idiot immediately realized he’d crossed a line. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Felix said, low and measured so that each word seemed to hang in the air with a tangible weight. As he spoke, he closed the distance between them, even though it made their significant height difference much more apparent. He didn’t care, he’d never let his height get in the way of disciplining Locus before. His eyes narrowed behind his visor as he stood so close to Locus that their chest-plates were almost touching. “After this,” he gestures again to the captured freelancer, “after I fucking brought you one of our biggest obstacles subdued and tied up all nice. What the hell more do I have to do? What-”

Felix paused again, scowling at the sound of that last sentence. Too needy, too much like he owed Locus something. He took a single step back to gather his thoughts before stabbing an accusatory finger at Locus’ chest. “None of that would have even happened if you’d let me kill them when we had the chance!” he pauses again, this time to let those words sink in, “So why don’t you just go back to being the big scary wanna-be SPARTAN and shut your goddamn mouth?”

Initially, Locus said nothing. Predictable. Just stared down at him through a thick cloud of tension. Unfortunately for Felix, it wasn’t the fun, sexual kind. After a moment he took a deep breath as if preparing to speak, but there wasn’t a chance for him to say anything.

There was the sound of the door opening first, “Locus, Felix!” then came a voice of one of the space pirates. His name was Cooper or something equally forgettable, Felix thought. “Um,” he continued, probably only just realizing the atmosphere he’d walked into, “Price sent me? Said you guys had a meeting.”

There was a moment of confused silence for Felix, because he had no idea what the man was talking about. The next though, he realized two things. One, this must be the appointment Locus had been fussing at him about. Two, they had a meeting with fucking Price. Literally the last person he wanted to talk to (after Locus, of course). “Fine, fine, god! What a pain in the ass.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “You keep watch over our freelancer pal, alright Cooper?”

“Actually my name is-“

“Ohh my god, I don’t care. Just do your job, mkay?” Felix reached out to pat the man on both shoulders before making to push past him.

Of course, Locus put that to a stop when he interrupts, “absolutely not.”

“What,” Felix immediately replied shortly, turning on his heel to look at Locus. “how the hell do you have a problem with that?” Really, he was done with Locus already. He had no patience for any of what was happening right now.

“Cutler works intel. He’s not properly trained to deal with someone of Agent Washington’s caliber should he cause trouble.” Locus folded his arms, head titled slightly as he looked down at Felix. He was daring him to challenge this. This unbelievable asshole. “I had brought Ross with me but…” Locus glanced out of the halfway open door that this idiot, Cutler apparently, was standing in, “I assume he must have left without me.”

The attention seemed to make the space pirate uncomfortable. “Yes sir. He’s not out there, that’s why I came in.”

Locus let out a short sigh before looking back at Felix as if this was his fault. “Undisciplined, as usual.” Felix just frowned a moment before he realized Ross must’ve been one of the recruits from the Tartarus.

“Jesus, you’re still complaining about that? How the fuck is that my fault? Control ordered it. I thought you were all about following orders,” he spat out, gesturing angrily with his hands, “And I swear to god Locus, if you say some bullshit about it not having been necessary if I’d kept my mouth shut I will slit your goddamn throat right here and now. Just fucking try me and see if I’m kidding!” Felix moved as he talked, pacing in front of the taller mercenary, fingers twitching at even the threat of violence.

The silence was annoying even though he completely expected it. Finally, Locus had the balls to say, “you’re awfully short tempered for the 40 minutes you spent enjoying yourself.” Unbelievable. One of the rare times Locus managed to properly bite back and Felix was not at all in the mood for it. As usual, Locus had the absolute worst timing.

But he was ready to counter, to slam that back in the face of his partner and source of the foul mood Locus is choosing to point out. He expected anger from Felix. So very often when they got into an argument like this, his rage became increasingly impotent in the face of Locus’ stubborn dedication to his own point of view. So instead he goes in the other direction, the one Locus never responds well to. His posture shifts into something more relaxed as he steps forward to put his hand on Locus’ shoulder. “What can I say?” he purred out, “nothing compares to your dick, Locs.”

The way Locus immediately stiffened at the blatantly sexual comment left Felix smirking triumphantly. He wasn’t worried about the useless Cutler overhearing. In fact, that probably added to Locus’s discomfort. It wasn’t a very well-kept secret, anyway, despite what Locus liked to believe.

“You are needlessly lewd,” Locus finally replied, pulling Felix’s hand off him with one of his own, pulling it up until Felix felt the muscles strain in his arm. His tone was even and measured but Felix knew him well enough to imagine the faintest tinge of red on his dark skin. He was certainly trying to communicate a sense of disapproval to Felix. Not that he cared. Locus' opinion hardly mattered.

But now he was trying to punish him using his height, the bastard. Felix was unmoved. He still held his head up, defiantly, even though he was inches away from being pulled off of his heels. “Yeah?” he spat out, “What’re you gonna do-“

“Gentlemen,” someone interrupted before he could finish what he was saying, and Locus immediately lowered his hand as they both looked to where the former counselor of Project Freelancer stood in the doorway that Cutler had now vacated. “I hope I am not… interrupting anything?”

Felix snorted, “oh yeah, totally. Can’t you feel the sexual tension? We were totally having a moment. Can’t believe you didn’t see that. Seems like something you’d be good at reading, you know?” He pulled his hand free from Locus’ grip, rubbing his wrist a bit where the larger mercenary’s fingers had dug in. He could feel the disapproval radiating off of Locus next to him without even having to look at him. Again, always predictable. He could hear that warning _Felix_ without Locus even having to say it.

“Price. We were coming to meet you but were…” Locus glanced at Felix again, “delayed. I wasn’t expecting you to come to us after having sent someone.” He was irritated, probably. The entire situation was not as he’d planned on it going, and Locus wasn’t good at adjusting quickly the way Felix was.

“I wasn’t initially, but someone mentioned you were held up dealing with a… high priority acquisition?” Price shifted his stance, glancing over the mercenaries’ shoulders. “I thought perhaps it would be better to meet with you here. How did you manage to capture Agent Washington?”

Felix felt about half of his irritation fall off of him like a shed skin as he shifted to look at the therapist, his usual cocky bravado returning in full force. “Well, he wasn’t easy, I’ll give you that. But he’s got a lot softer heart than your reports paint him as having. That’s why Locus has been so disappointed, y’know?” He elbows Locus in the side, and continued talking before the man could protest, “anyway, all we had to do was pin down the Chorus soldiers he was patrolling with and hold a gun to their heads to make him a whooole lot more pliable.” Felix paused to laugh, settling back into a good humor as he recalled the immensely satisfying mission. “I mean, he still put up a fight. But he just didn’t have the same… ferocity in him. Couldn’t do much without a gun in his hands. Wasn’t hard for someone as good as me to subdue him.”

He felt Locus’s frown before he spoke, “and the soldiers? If you let them go then-”

“Jeez Locus, what kind of amateur do you take me for? As soon as we had Wash out of commission I took care of them. It was pretty fun, actually. One of ‘em was a new republic lieutenant, whiny little loser, looked up to _Tucker_ for god's sake. He was all, 'oh please Felix, don’t kill me, please don’t kill me I don’t wanna die Felix!'” Felix parroted the frantic lieutenant’s words back in a mocking voice before laughing again. “Pitiful. Almost didn’t put the first bullet between his eyes to hear him squeal more. But I figured I shouldn’t waste time.”

Locus had his hand pressed to his visor as if in exasperation. He never appreciated Felix’s stories. Like it was somehow Felix’s fault that Locus didn’t try harder to enjoy his job. Things like this were arguably the best part. Seeing people at their worst, the way they break down in the face of death, holding someone’s life in your hands before ending it with the simple pull of a trigger. Absoultely fucking amazing.

Aiden Price, on the other hand, looked oddly contemplative, like he was synthesizing the key points of everything that Felix said. It didn’t strike him as troubling until the man opened his mouth, “you seem to enjoy the misery of others, Felix. Are you aware of that?” He asked carefully, canting his head to the side, his tone irritatingly calm as it always was.

Felix’s immediate reaction was to be offended not at the accusation itself but how off the man’s analysis of his motivations were. “It’s not-” he stops short once more upon hearing a sound behind him. When he turned around, blue eyes met his. “Well would you look at that, maybe freelancers really _are_ made of stronger stuff than us average humans!” He sauntered over to the blearily half-awake agent. “As you can see, we’ve upgraded your living conditions a bit,” he continued, patting the bare cot Washington was now lying on. The agent's arms were still over his head, shackled to some anchoring mechanism in the wall that Felix still didn’t know the original purpose of.

Upon gaining a tenuous grasp on his partial consciousness, the first action Wash took was to spit at Felix again. “Go to hell,” he growled out hoarsely, not even having the energy to find any cruel satisfaction in making Felix jump back and curse, apparently.

Of course, being Felix, he recovered quickly. “Still sore, I see,” he laughed, “in more ways than one, I’m sure. But hey, you better behave yourself. Wouldn’t want to offend your visitor with such foul language.” Felix said almost mockingly as he glanced over at Price, giving him tacit permission to approach.

The way the freelancer’s expression shifted from annoyed confusion to abject horror as Price stepped into his field of vision was, well, priceless. “Hello, Agent Washington. It has been quite some time since we last met in person,” Price said, cool as ever despite the blond man’s reaction. His hands remained folded behind his back and his face remained that weirdly insincere half smile that he almost always seemed to wear.

“You,” Wash croaked out, almost uncertain, as if his brain couldn’t process the level of backstabbery that this man being here in this time and place would require. “Why are you-”

Price stepped forward, hand brushing briefly over the bandages spread across Wash’s chest, still flowering pink with the taint of fresh blood. The man seemed to recoil at the touch, but not as much as he did from Felix. “It seems you’ve been through quite a lot. I think perhaps you should rest some more. We can discuss things when you are…” he glanced from the bandages on Wash’s head and the IV attached to his arm, “more lucid.” He reached up, adjusting the IV so that the dosage of the sedative was increased.

Wash strained against his bindings, weakly and without a clear goal or purpose, “no,” he muttered, repeating it again a hitch louder, slightly higher, “You can’t be here, you’re supposed to be-” Wash interrupted himself with a vague agonized noise as he winced. Hurting himself by his pointless resistance. Typical, really, from everything Felix had observed. Agent Washington didn’t seem to have the best self-preservation instincts. “Why are you with them!?” he finally managed to parse out, collapsing with some finality back onto the cot.

It was Locus who gave an answer, stepping forward between Price and Felix. “Former counselor Price is acting as a behavior analyst and advisor in the service of Charon industries. He’s chosen to ally with us knowing the path this situation is likely to take. I suggest you consider doing the same.” All business. Felix frowned a little at the last part. Like the stubborn and distrusting Agent Washington would even give that proposition the time of day. But it was Locus, after all. He had this weird fixation of Agent Washington and the entirety of the freelancers as a whole.

The expression on Wash’s face suggested he was similarly thrown by the offer, but all he managed to get out before slipping back into unconsciousness was a confused wordless grunting noise. He was left passed out with his mouth half open and his brows furrowed into a scowl. As soon as the agent was out, Felix and Locus both turned to look at Price in almost unison.

It was Price who spoke first, eyebrow raised ever so slightly, “you intend to recruit Agent Washington to your side, Locus?” His tone was unbiased with any personal judgement, as always. Just a faint air of something that was perhaps bemusement. Felix didn’t pretend to understand this man.

“I do,” Locus replied, looking back down at the unconscious agent, “rather, I intend to try.”

Felix let out an exasperated sigh, throwing up his hands as he strode back towards the door, “I gotta say, this is crazy and delusional even for you. Did you somehow forget how much he seems to loathe you? Like, I hate you too but most people don’t actually like working with people they hate because of... morals or whatever.” Really, he wasn’t sure what Wash was good for now that they’d already broken him in. It probably wouldn’t be quite as fun a second time. A hostage, he supposed. Whenever the people of Chorus figured out what happened.

“It’s possible.” Locus countered, turning around to face Felix as he flounced away, “with what Price can do. Agent Washington isn’t as stable as he pretends to be. You would know that if you read his file properly.”

“What, is he gonna do some goofy psychiatrist bullshit on him? Hypnotize him? You do realize that’s not real, right Locus?”

Price turned around as well, and Felix felt a vague dread because that obviously meant he had something to say. “Actually,” he started, “your partner is correct. Agent Washington has shown to be an… adaptable person. With the right stressors applied you might be surprised at the results we could achieve.”

Felix pulled off his helmet then, if for no other reason than to express the sheer incredulity he felt with the look painted across his face. “This is ridiculous. I’m not going to enable this psychobabble bullshit. It’s nonsense.”

Price was, of course, entirely unfazed. Like Felix really needed two of these stolid assholes. Locus was bad enough on his own. “There is no need to lash out, Felix.” Price replied, his face shifting almost imperceptibly into what Felix was certain was a knowing smirk, “I understand these things make you uncomfortable due to your own unstable-”

“Shut the fuck up!” he cut in, suppressing the urge to throw something at the man, “when I want your opinion on how I operate, I’ll fucking ask for it!” Before either Price or Locus could say anything more, he threw the door open, jostling Cutler who’d been eavesdropping as he pushed past roughly. The guy ended up losing his footing and fell on his ass. It almost made Felix feel better. Almost.


	4. A Hard Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Felix misbehaves until he gets his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no excuse for taking 8 months to post this, it was like 80% done for months. ALSO since this chapter and the rest of the fic were started before season 14, I'm still going to be using my personal face canons for Felix and Locus, so if at any point there are details that don't jive with the show, that's why! I promise to strive for more regular updates in the future. In the meantime, please enjoy the smut.

Locus didn’t actually mind getting up to speed with the Counselor without Felix around. Of course, he didn’t much enjoy the man’s presence. Price’s unerring calmness was odd, but what Locus truly found off-putting about him was his keen eye for other people’s insecurities. Still, things went a lot more smoothly without Felix there to make his unnecessary comments. Logistics, casualties and victories, it was necessary to discuss numbers, but Felix never seemed like he could be bothered with anything he considered “minor” details. Of course, there was one other thing on the table.

“Am I correct in assuming you still wish to move forward with your plans for Agent Washington?” Price asked, standing in front of the display console they had been using to distribute troop numbers.

Locus himself had been pacing, idly, his mind half wandering back to Felix. Hoping he hadn’t been wound up far enough to go off and do something stupid. He almost didn’t hear the counselor speak. He paused momentarily before replying, “yes. Felix may object but it would hardly be the first time we haven’t seen eye to eye… I’m sure it will not be the last.” He stopped to stare sidelong at the other man.

Price was unmoved. Locus’s subtle intimidation tactics never seemed to affect him. “The two of your certainly have a… unique partnership. I had expected more of an understanding, between the two of you. Had you anticipated his anger at your idea?” The tone in his voice indicated to Locus that this was some sort of test. The sort of test he was never particularly good at. People was not his strong point, that was what Felix was for.

Locus resumed his pacing, silently mulling over the question. For some reason, he hadn’t actually thought about it, just dismissed it as a symptom of Felix’s mercurial temperament. “It seemed to me he doesn’t approve of your methods,” he supplied, concentrating hard to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

The way Price’s head tilted just slightly to the side made Locus feel like he had given the wrong answer and this man was now using it to profile him. It was unsettling, to say the least. He was starting to get the feeling that most conversations with Aiden Price went that way. “And that doesn’t strike you as odd?” he asked, “With the way he operates. Felix is quite skilled at psychological manipulation himself.”

“No,” Locus replied instantly, almost as a knee-jerk response. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to object so quickly, but chose not to dwell on it. He never liked to stay with one thought for very long, particularly more dangerous ones. Stay focused. He paused a moment before supplying what felt like a logical explanation for his response, “Hypocrisy is hardly new behavior for Felix. He doesn’t like being beaten at his own game.” Some people would say Felix had a competitive streak in him. Locus though, knew better. He’d had years to figure it out, that it wasn’t quite that. Felix didn’t want to compete. He just wanted to be the best. He didn’t have to be an expert in psychology to know that. He’d learned it the hard way. Felix hated playing games he couldn’t win, and Locus had been the unwilling outlet for his frustrations more than once.

The unarmored man took a few steps away from the console. The dim red light of the display screens in the room cast his face in an almost sinister light. Arguably, it was a more honest picture of the former counselor turned escaped convict than seeing him in natural light. Locus didn’t trust the calm smile so often on his face. Felix had taught him better than to trust a smile. “A misjudgment on my part, then,” Price said, though it somehow felt insincere.

Locus let out a soft sound that was almost a snort, “I’ve worked with him for years. It would be difficult if I didn’t have some level of understanding as to how his mind works.” Of course he didn’t fully understand Felix. He wasn’t sure even Felix fully understands Felix. He couldn’t really tell. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud. He didn’t expose his own weak spots if he could help it.

“But do you think that’s the only reason why?” Price asked after a brief pause, his intent gaze sending a wave of apprehension down Locus’s spine. For some reason, at that moment the thought that surfaced in his mind was ‘ _this man is dangerous._ ’ It didn’t surprise him, much. He’d thought it before.

A moment later though, he didn’t have any idea why it had chosen to resurface at that moment. He pushed the thought down and away, like any of the other unnecessary thoughts he found himself subject to. Still, he felt the corners of his mouth pull into a frown. Not that it was visible behind his helmet. One of many reasons he preferred to wear it at all times. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, in a tone he aimed to make dismissive rather than a flat-out admission of not understanding.

Price considered him a moment more before turning away, “I see,” He started to proceed towards the door, but paused again before exiting. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Locus?” he asked, turning back to look at the mercenary.

For half a second, Locus felt like saying yes. But again, he pushed that unusual urge down and away. He didn’t need the help of a therapist. “No,” he spoke with finality, before tacking on, “I’m going to locate Felix.” Certainly he didn’t usually make a habit of keeping a close eye on his partner. But the state he left in was enough cause to warrant at least checking in, he thought.

“I would leave him be for the time being, if I were you.” Locus didn’t respond other than to look squarely at the Counselor, waiting for elaboration. “You have more pressing matters to attend to, and it is already late. I think you may find a hands off approach will work best here… Just based on my observations, if you’re willing to trust them.” The man left Locus scowling into his helmet on that fairly cryptic note. But he wasn’t going to press the matter. Just push it down, like everything else.

He did consider ignoring Price’s advice, but given that he _did_ have better things to do, chose to follow it. It was hard to fight the urge to continue working through equipment drop requests and troop movement analyses, but he’d already been awake a good 45 hours already. As much as he hated the necessity of it, sleep was an inevitability. When he found himself reading the same sentence for the fifth time and still not understanding it, he knew he’d reached his limit. He entered the first unoccupied room that had a digital lock on it and collapsed on the bed that was little more than a mattress on a box. It didn’t matter. Sleeping in armor was never terribly comfortable anyway, but he refused to do anything otherwise. It was safer, this way. He felt relatively secure in the integrity of the door lock, but it was always better to have a safeguard.

 

As if to prove his point, he awoke later in the night to find Felix sitting on his legs. Apparently the door lock had been no match for the smaller mercenary. “Felix?” he asked, half irritated and half still asleep.

“Where the hell have you been?” was his response, irritated even as he leaned over to rest his elbows on Locus’ chest. A casual position, but also an easy way to keep him pinned down without being perceived as aggression. Pointless, as Locus was already familiar with Felix’s moves anyway. In any case, it did render him unsure whether Felix was still angry with him, so he had to play it carefully.

Dealing with Felix in these sort of situations often brought Locus to lie, but he felt he didn’t have the energy for it at the moment. “I was working. I had to do it on my own because you stormed off,” he replied, and then as his consciousness finally gripped him firmly enough for an important thought to occur to him, added, “how did you get in here?”

Felix laughed, pulling off his helmet, “well, I’d like to say I broke the lock, but you know those digital locks don’t arm automatically when you close the door, right? Aw you forgot, didn’t you? That’s too bad. Don’t worry though, I went ahead and locked it for you.”

Locus scowled beneath his visor and cursed himself inwardly, that he’d forget something so simple even in his exhaustion. He had really hoped to deal with Felix after he’d slept properly. As his head slowly reorganized itself with its sudden return to consciousness, Locus estimated he’d gotten a few solid hours of sleep. Not as much as he’d like, but Felix wasn’t going to wait. “Are you still mad?”

“Oh Locus, don’t be silly. I’m not mad at you,” Felix purred, though Locus didn’t believe him for a moment. Felix never smiled that wide when he wasn’t plotting something.

“I’m not changing my mind about Agent Washington,” Locus responded flatly.

Felix’s response was dramatic and immediate, smile vanishing as he pushed himself up off Locus’s chest, smile twisting hideously into an indignant scowl. So much for not being mad. “Why the hell not!? Even if Price can somehow ‘convert’ him, how the hell will you know it’s really worked? You can’t _trust_ him. Why would you need some loose fucking variable like that when you have me?” he growled out, fingers curling around the top rim of Locus’s body armor like he was about to tear it off with his bare hands.

A thought flared up in the back of Locus’ head then, _Do you think that’s the only reason why?_ Maybe Price had been right, there was something else. But he couldn’t be expected to puzzle out Felix’s problems. He wasn’t supposed to be the people person. After closing his eyes for a moment to think, he responds slowly, choosing his words carefully, hoping that if he spelled everything out clearly, Felix would settle down, “Agent Washington is a potential weapon,” He reached up to tilt Felix’s face back toward him. “You are my partner,” he reminded Felix, “The two are mutually exclusive. You are being irrational.”

After a pause where he simply stared at Locus, Felix let out a short barking laugh, “god, you’re so fucking bad at talking to people.” Locus didn’t know what he meant by that, but didn’t have a chance to question it because just then Felix was popping the armor locks holding Locus’ own helmet in place.

“Felix,” Locus hissed irritably, one hand reaching up to hold his helmet in place as Felix continued to remove armor both from himself and the body beneath him. His intentions were obvious. Locus weighed his options for a few seconds before sighing and resigning himself to it. A moment later he was frowning as Felix pulled out a knife. “Don’t cut it. You know how to remove the suit properly.”

Rolling his eyes, Felix stuck his knife in the wall next to them as he leaned back to sit just on Locus’ legs. “God you’re no fun. Sit up and take it off, then,” Felix said as if it was some massive inconvenience even as he reached back to pry apart the seam at the back of his own bodysuit before wiggling out of it completely and letting it fall onto the floor.

Locus meanwhile, only stripped off the bare minimum amount. Unlike Felix, he didn’t feel the need to show off his body at every available opportunity. Certainly, Felix was enough of an exhibitionist for the both of them. The art all over the smaller mercenary’s body was self-designed and meticulously placed. As many tattoos as he had, Locus had seen first-hand how much thought he actually put into them.

The last one he’d gotten before they were deployed on Chorus, a cluster of oleander and spider lilies on the back of his neck, had taken him months to design, in their sporadic down-times between jobs. He’d gotten the idea after chatting with a florist who’d hired him for a hit on her stalker of an ex-husband. It was a small job that Locus had been against Felix taking, but the woman had held some interest for his partner, in a way he himself hadn’t understood. When he’d caught his partner sketching out the design he’d been told that the woman had taught Felix about the language of flowers, that oleander meant ‘caution’ and spider lilies were a funeral flower in Japan, said to grow in hell. Beware, may cause death. It seemed a fitting warning label for Felix, he’d thought.

And really Felix was like those oleander flowers, in his way. Beautiful, but extremely poisonous. He was different, gratuitous ink and metal clashing with his inordinately young-looking face, but far more interesting for it. “I’m tired, Felix. Hurry up,” was all Locus actually said out loud, though he rested a hand on Felix’s slender hips anyway, because he knew it was what he wanted.

As if on cue, Felix purred, rocking his hips demurely before reaching down to take Locus’ cock in his hands. “Now, that sounds like a challenge, Locs. You don’t think I can ride you hard enough to wake you up? I’m almost insulted.” Even without the lazy smirk on his face, Locus knew better than to believe Felix’s claims of hurt feelings.

“I’m not calling your sexual skills into question. I’m telling you I want to go back to sleep,” Locus corrected, though he didn’t know why he bothered. Felix would always choose to hear whatever he wanted to hear at times like this. He gasped minutely as his partner’s expert fingers set to work, glad for his helmet still held in place over his head, covering his face. The smug self-satisfied look Felix would always get on his face when he got a reaction out of Locus was annoying.

It had to be specifically to spite him that the look spread across Felix’s face anyway. “Don’t think I can’t hear you breathing just because you’ve got your helmet on,” Felix said as his hand slid purposefully up the length of Locus’ shaft, thumb coasting along the underside and across the tip until Locus’s head dropped back onto the hard mattress.

“ _Felix_ ,” Locus protested in a low, strained tone, his hands tensing, blunt nails digging into the meat of Felix’s hips and pulling a gasp out of him. A little pain was always an easy way to jumpstart Felix’s libido. Not that he needed any help. Certainly not as far as Locus was concerned. He just wanted Felix to stop teasing him. He always found it harder to mute his reactions when he was sleep-deprived, and Felix knew it.

After a short laugh, Felix relented, “you’re so impatient. Lucky for you I came prepared.” Still looking smug as ever, he lifted himself up and onto Locus’s cock. Locus was about to ask what that meant, but the next moment he realized Felix had already lubed himself up. Not that he could’ve asked after that, anyway. He was too busy focusing on keeping a level head as Felix slowly took the entire length into his ass in one slow drawn out movement, panting with the exertion. Locus had half a mind to close his eyes so he didn’t have to look at how Felix’s muscles tensed and stretched as he worked his way down, nails digging into Locus’s bare chest. But at the same time, he couldn’t bear to look away. At this proud creature, stripped of all his bravado if only for a moment, soft and tight in all the ways he didn’t deserve to be at his age. Though he didn’t believe in any god, Locus figured that if there were one, they had surely spent all their time perfect crafting his outsides and not noticed the wickedness they’d neglected to take care of within.

When he’d taken it all in, Felix wiggled his hips minutely before leaning forward with a sharp smile on his lips. Locus didn’t think anything of it until he felt a dull pain in his shoulder, which upon investigation, was due to Felix’s knife. He’d forgotten, in his tiredness, one of the cardinal rules of dealing with Felix, never trust a smile. By that logic, he almost deserved it. Still, he jerked against it with a grunt, but it was hardly the first time Felix had made him bleed. “I’m all you can count on, Locus,” Felix said lowly, almost whispering into Locus’ ear. He paused a moment, presumably to let the statement sink in. Instead, Locus chose to focus on the dull hum of the ventilation system, the lazy breeze of filtered air keeping the room cool in defiance of the unforgiving humidity just outside the base. The regularity of it was calming, in a way. Then Felix rucked his hips up to jostle another noise out of Locus, jarring him back into the moment, “don’t you forget that.”

That was when Locus officially became annoyed. Maybe it was how tired he was, maybe it was the knife in his shoulder, or maybe he’d just finally had it with Felix’s smug attitude. Probably, it was all three. While Felix was still leaning over him, Locus let go of his helmet so that he could grab Felix’s ass with both hands, jerking him up almost entirely off of himself before immediately slamming his lithe body back down again. If nothing else, that stupid smirk flew off of Felix’s face as he was caught completely off guard. Locus didn’t stop, especially not when the surprise melted all of Felix’s pompous preening away, robbing him of his usual careful control over the faces and sounds he’d make. When Felix was leading during sex, he was all teeth and clawing skin. But when Locus could catch him like this, it was easy to make Felix fall apart so he could take the time to enjoy the smaller mercenary’s smooth skin and the soft sweet noises he’d make when he wasn’t able to collect himself long enough to rebuild his ego. Though, he suspected Felix didn’t even try. Most of the time, he’d goad Locus into this behavior. Felix couldn’t fully enjoy sex unless he made it into a fight.

Locus knew he couldn’t last long like this though, so when he’d gotten Felix mewling his name, he let go. But before Felix could recover long enough to start spewing his sharp words again, Locus reached up to lock his hands instead around Felix’s neck, thumbs pressing what he knew to be painfully against the trachea. Even as the breath caught in his throat, Felix rolled his hips, letting out a strangled growl as the lust in his gaze lessened not even a fraction of a percent. “You’re depraved,” he noted plainly as Felix continued to bounce desperately in his lap, grinding more and more sloppily as his body struggled to function on an increasingly small amount of oxygen. It wasn’t until Felix’s eyes started to roll back in his head that Locus let go, and Felix immediately collapsed on his chest, practically gagging on the sudden return of air to his lungs.

Felix’s face was still red when he pushed himself up, an almost pouting expression on his face. “Why’d you stop? I was almost there,” he whined. Locus wasn’t sure how he felt he could ask this while he was still clearly trying to catch his breath. Though, that was probably in part because he was still moving his hips.

“You were about to pass out,” Locus replied plainly.

“I was not! Come onnn Locs, you know just how I like it,” Felix purred as he spread his finger’s across Locus’ dark chest. Locus didn’t think he really wanted that sort of compliment. Instead, he bucked his hips to pull another moan out of Felix and hopefully distract him if for no other reason than it throwing him off balance. “Dick,” was all the smaller man had the coherency at that moment to mutter.

Locus simply hummed, comfortable that Felix had dropped all of his complacency at the very least. “You talked big about ‘riding me hard,’ why don’t you get on with that?” he asked dully, partly to rile Felix up further, but mostly because he honestly did want to just go to sleep. Felix had drawn out his fun for far long enough, as far as he was concerned.

It didn’t take Felix much longer to ride an orgasm out of both of them, moaning loud with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his hands running all over his own body as he came. Locus merely closed his eyes and let the wave of endorphins and muscle spasms wash over him. He knew when he felt Felix’s chest against his and the knife leave his shoulder that they were done. “Up,” he ordered as he physically pushed Felix away from him.

“Ughhh you’re the worst,” Felix whined even as he sat up and picked his bodysuit up off the floor.

“I need to sleep, get _up_ ,” Locus repeated, letting the exhaustion gnawing at his consciousness seep into his voice. The actively bleeding stab wound barely registered to him at this point, but the sooner he got Felix out, the sooner he could bandage it up without fear of interference. He didn’t want to have to argue with Felix. He refused to do so.

Felix turned to look at him straight on then, incredulous, “you’re kicking me out?”

Locus pulled his helmet back into place, “yes.” He didn’t even wait to see if Felix did as he was told, just turned away to rummage in the supply crate next to the bed for bandages or if he was lucky, bio-foam. He found neither, and let out an irritated noise that was cut short when he realized Felix was standing right next to him.

“Looking for this?” he asked as he shook bio-foam injector, tauntingly. He still wasn’t even fully dressed, undersuit pulled up but unzipped, one side hanging off his shoulder.

After a tense moment of silence, Locus bit back a comment about how Felix both looked and was acting like a child. Instead he sighed and decided it was easier to just make a concession, "what do you want, Felix?"

The grin that spread across Felix's face told him that he's given the smaller man the response he'd been looking for. Felix leaned over Locus, planting his knee on top of Locus's lap. "That's what I like to hear," he purred before jamming the injector into the wound. Rather than depress the plunger, he redirected his gaze up at Locus, "Since I'm such a _nice guy_ , I'm gonna let you try your little science experiment with Price." Felix's thumb rested heavily on the injector, almost feeling like a threat, "but if, aaand that's a big 'if', it works, I still get to do whatever I want with him."

Locus hissed as Felix dug his knee into the meat of his thigh. "Fine." As soon as the word left his mouth he felt the familiar discomfort of bio-foam filling the wound in his shoulder.  
  
"Thereeee we go. And don't you worry Locs, I won't kill him. Well, not unless he makes me." Felix patted the quickly healing stab wound, sounding like a satisfied cat as he deposited the spent bio-foam cartridge on the floor.  
  
"Good, now leave," Locus responded, too tired to criticize Felix. Making a mess was par for the course when it came to the other mercenary.  
  
Apparently he'd expected and wanted more of a fight, because Felix's reaction was to make a face most easily comparable to a pout. Still, he got up and started pulling his suit back on properly. "Jeez fine, whatever. Gotta rest up for your Winter Soldier project, hunh?" he said, making reference once again to something Locus didn't care to ask about.  
  
"Lock the door on your way out."  
  
"It only locks from the inside!" Felix crowed like it was some great joke as he trotted out while pulling his helmet back on.  
  
The door slid shut with a soft hiss that Locus found highly irritating, but maybe it was just residual annoyance from Felix getting his way once again. Though, at least it wasn’t a total loss, this time. He didn't have to lose the powerful potential tool that was the former freelancer.  
  
As long as that remained an option, he wasn't too concerned. Locus stood up after a few moments of welcome silence, walking over to set the digital lock on the door. He couldn't even remember walking back to the mattress when he woke up the next day.


End file.
